From Today's Streams in the Desert

Lie Still and Trust
"I had fainted unless…!(Ps. 27:13).
"FAINT NOT!"
How great is the temptation at this point! How the soul sinks, the heart grows sick, and the faith staggers under the keen trials and testings which come into our lives in times of special bereavement and suffering.
"I cannot bear up any longer, I am fainting under this providence. What shall I do? God tells me not to faint. But what can one do when he is fainting?"
What do you do when you are about to faint physically? You cannot do anything. You cease from your own doings. In your faintness, you fall upon the shoulder of some strong loved one. You lean hard. You rest. You lie still and trust.
It is so when we are tempted to faint under affliction. God's message to us is not, "Be strong and of good courage," for He knows our strength and courage have fled away. But it is that sweet word, "Be still, and know that I am God."
Hudson Taylor was so feeble in the closing months of his life that he wrote a dear friend: "I am so weak I cannot write; I cannot read my Bible; I cannot even pray. I can only lie still in God's arms like a little child, and trust."
This wondrous man of God with all his spiritual power came to a place of physical suffering and weakness where he could only lie still and trust.
And that is all God asks of you, His dear child, when you grow faint in the fierce fires of affliction. Do not try to be strong. Just be still and know that He is God, and will sustain you, and bring you through.
"God keeps His choicest cordials for our deepest faintings."

I got the most wonderful gift in the mail yesterday.

If you are looking for a gift for someone who has had a rough year, let me suggest the necklace you see...

You can order it by clicking here.

It's the Remember Me "Whole" necklace from DaySpring. It came with a beautiful scroll bookmark to explain the necklace. Here's what it said...

"Whole"

This symbol represents

Hope to the hurting heart.

'Run to ME, I'll hold you close, curing your heart's ache

with My tender knowing touch, I'll sew up every break

memories...scars they fade,

like the end of day

when My love is planted there

the pain is washed away

I am your Prince of Peace,

the Lover of your soul

let Me in, I'll mend your heart

My love will make you Whole

Luke 4:18

A great tangible reminder of the promise I am hanging onto.

Noise

My first car was a 1980 Honda Civic. I loved it. What was lost on "coolness," it made up for in character. I didn't care what it looked like, as long as it ran. And it did...most of the time.

I remember one time it began to make a horrific noise. I was not ready to face the fact that it might need to go into the shop. I had things to do, places to go, people to see. So, instead of dealing with the noise, I just turned up the radio.

Eventually the noise stopped. Because the car stopped. It broke down because I avoided the problem.

I still do it today.
When trouble comes, instead of being still and listening for God's voice, I turn up the sound of life. I get busier. I sign up for more stuff. I agree to do more. All the while God is begging me to be still.

This past week, God not only turned down the radio...He ripped it out altogether. In a potentially fatal situation, I was forced with a choice. Instead of listening to God's voice, I went with what I felt was right. And my life...broke down again. So, I am forced to bring the broken pieces of life back to God and once again ask for His forgiveness and redemption.

Psalm 119:25-32 (The Message)
I'm feeling terrible—I couldn't feel worse!
Get me on my feet again. You promised, remember?
When I told my story, you responded;
train me well in your deep wisdom.
Help me understand these things inside and out
so I can ponder your miracle-wonders.
My sad life's dilapidated, a falling-down barn;
build me up again by your Word.
Barricade the road that goes Nowhere;
grace me with your clear revelation.
I choose the true road to Somewhere,
I post your road signs at every curve and corner.
I grasp and cling to whatever you tell me;
God, don't let me down!
I'll run the course you lay out for me
if you'll just show me how.

Streams in the Desert - Oct. 28

The Father's Hand
"Your heavenly Father knoweth" (Matt. 6:32).
A visitor at a school for the deaf and dumb was writing questions on the blackboard for the children. By and by he wrote this sentence: "Why has God made me to hear and speak, and made you deaf and dumb?"

The awful sentence fell upon the little ones like a fierce blow in the face. They sat palsied before that dreadful "Why?" And then a little girl arose.

Her lip was trembling. Her eyes were swimming with tears. Straight to the board she walked, and, picking up the crayon, wrote with firm hand these precious words: "Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight!" What a reply! It reaches up and lays hold of an eternal truth upon which the maturest believer as well as the youngest child of God may alike securely rest -- the truth that God is your Father.

Do you mean that? Do you really and fully believe that? When you do, then your dove of faith will no longer wander in weary unrest, but will settle down forever in its eternal resting place of peace. "Your Father!"

I can still believe that a day comes for all of us, however far off it may be, when we shall understand; when these tragedies, that now blacken and darken the very air of heaven for us, will sink into their places in a scheme so august, so magnificent, so joyful, that we shall laugh for wonder and delight.

--Arthur Christopher Bacon

Scab

I grew up in a neighborhood of mostly boys. To say I was a tomboy, would be totally accurate. To prove that I didn't do anything 'like a girl,' I kept scabs on my knees for most of the summer. When autumn hit, the knees got a break with long pants. But, the scars that were left behind lived quietly underneath denim until the warm days of spring welcomed shorts once again.

I have taken a hard fall this year. Life has not turned out like I thought it would. My tender heart has been exposed to the unforgiving pavement of life. The result has been some pretty serious wounds that can't be healed with a super hero band-aid. Just like when I was a kid, when healing begins, I bump the scab and the pain is all new again. It's almost as if you start all over again. That's how life feels for me right now.

I am not telling you that to get a pity party. Because, honestly, that just makes me mad. I am taking good notes. I am sure I am learning alot. But, just like the academic classes you took, you often don't know what you have learned until after the exam is over.

I am telling you because I want to be honest. If life 'hurts' for you right now, I know exactly where you are. If life is good for you right now, could you be patient with those of us who are trying desperately to get this thing right? Thanks.

1987

I can't remember squat. I used to pride myself on my keen memory. Now...not so much. I can remember my favorite tv shows from childhood and useless facts good only when playing trivial pursuit. But, the important stuff seems to escape from a small window located somewhere in the back of my brain. So, when I woke up with a song on my mind this morning from YEARS ago...and I couldn't remember the artist or title...it wasn't a huge surprise. A little google, a little help from a friend and a you tube video later...and I was in business.

The song was from 1987. The cassette jacket was like seeing the face of a familiar old friend. I was 16...and more than just a driver's license, I had complete control over the radio/cassette deck in my Honda Civic. This was before the day of 6 disc changers. You had to decide on one selection and stick with it. And you had to master the art of rewinding and fast forwarding to be able to get to the song you actually liked. This song...was the one that I wore out until the tape finally broke. God brought it back to my mind today.



It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that I am smack dab in the middle of a struggle. If this is your first visit, go back and read a few random posts. I think it will be crystal clear. God used a song from 1987 to be my prayer today...

Suicide

I will never forget the day I got the call. The crisp autumn air had just arrived and I was living in a small, cramped apartment looking forward to moving into my house. I thought it was just another ordinary day.

My friend, Leanne, had left a message for me to call her and I noticed something strange in the sound of her voice. I dialed her number...wondering what it could be.

"I have bad news. It's Tricia. She's gone."

I still remember the feeling. The blood drained from my face. My body went limp. I slumped into a dining room chair as I tried desperately to process the information that was coming at me like freight train. Then the questions. As soon as Leanne gave what details she knew, the questions came like a machine gun releasing rounds faster than my mouth could form the words. And then I was silenced with the words, "It was suicide."

Tricia was fun. I remember many a trip to Waffle House. We went, not so much because we were hungry, but because we wanted to stay up late and laugh. She was a rule breaker. She went out of her way to do the unexpected. She made me laugh so hard. She was creative and incredibly intelligent. I remember when she first introduced me to her new computer and told me about this thing called e-mail. She was the first person I knew that had a cell phone mounted in her car. If she were around today, she would have a blog and an Iphone. She would have loved Twitter.

But, Tricia was a wounded soul. Years of abuse had left her scarred physically, mentally and emotionally. There were days that her darkness made me cry. I didn't know how to help her. But, I so desperately wanted to.

I have never gotten over the phone call that I received that fall afternoon in 2002. It changed me forever.

Please don't email me with a theological discussion of what you think of suicide. To be honest with you, I have wrestled enough with it in my own mind that I could fill a months worth of talk shows with the content. I don't think you should be allowed to have an opinion on suicide until you have stood over a headstone with a date etched in it that was far too early for the person that you knew and loved. Until you have stared at the ceiling night after night replaying every conversation over in your mind wondering if something you could have said could have changed the decision that she finally made. Until you've wrestled with the guilt of losing someone you knew was in trouble and constantly asking if you did enough...that's when I think you should be allowed to have an opinion about it.

Here's what gets me through this painful day...year after year. I believe my friend suffered from an illness. And just as people who die from cancer or in a car accident, they receive their ultimate healing when they step from this life to the next and into the arms of our Great Physician.

I don't know why I felt compelled to share this with you today. Maybe it's because I need a little grace if you see me out today and I am not my usual goofy self. Maybe it's because I want you to know how much this world missed because Tricia left too early. Or maybe...just maybe, you or somebody you love could be in trouble...and you just needed a nudge to get the help. Do it today. Right now. If it would save you from getting the phone call that I never got over, it would be worth all of the tears I have shed while writing this post.

You are loved.